This article originally published July 29, 2014

One sip of soju and I was instantly ravenous. Never mind that I was drinking right after dinner.

But there is something about the distilled beverage – which tastes like a weaker, sweeter vodka – that really stimulated my appetite. This made me understand in part why there is such a battle brewing among Palisades Park's Korean establishments over who can serve the drink (and why my Korean friend advised me to have salty or spicy snacks at the ready as I was tasting it).

Allowing BYOB customers to bring soju to dinner most certainly helps their food sales. But more importantly, soju is deeply ingrained in Korean culture, much like vodka in Russia or sake in Japan. Many Koreans cannot imagine eating dishes such as samgyeopsal (grilled slices of fatty pork belly) or soondae (a kind of blood sausage) without soju washing out the richness.

Made from such ingredients as rice, barley, wheat or sweet potato, soju has a higher alcohol content than beer or wine but is not as strong as hard liquor. It is generally inexpensive: I paid $5.99 for a 375-milliliter bottle of Chamisul Classic from Jinro, the world's biggest soju producer.

And though it is traditionally sipped chilled, it is occasionally used in cocktails – I've had it combined with fruit juices and yogurt drinks, where its neutral flavor worked well. And many like to pour it into beer for a poktanju – "bomb drink." Watching showy bartenders make several at a time is an entertaining process that can be viewed on YouTube.